The Devil That You Know
by Livvie
Summary: Stand-Alone Fic. Title comes from when Triple H signed with Bischoff instead of Stephanie. Maybe everything wasn't as it seemed.


"The Devil That You Know 1/1"  
  
Stephanie McMahon shut off the lights in her office and stifled a yawn. She wanted nothing more right now than to just go back to her hotel room, crawl into the bed, pull the covers over her head and actually get more than her usual four hours of sleep.  
  
But she couldn't.  
  
She had to finish closing on this deal…had to finish this negotiation that would finally put the last nail in that slimeball Eric Bischoff's coffin.  
  
The thought somehow reenergized Stephanie once again. She'd put in at least a few more hours before collapsing into bed.  
  
Alone.  
  
Always, always alone, why was that? She felt restless, needed to do something, anything to relieve the unbelievable boredom in her life.   
  
She just didn't know what yet.  
  
She walked through the closed underground parking lot, heels clack clacking on the pavement.  
  
She froze.  
  
Frowning at the utter silence in the lot….she could have sworn she'd heard footsteps…shaking her head, she looked through her purse for her keys.  
  
And she froze again, spinning around.  
  
This time, she was sure, absolutely sure, she'd heard something. Her eyes searched the garage, alarmed slightly, but not overly panicked. She licked her lips and forced her legs to start moving again.  
  
From this angle, she could almost see the bumper of her car only fifty feet away. At a half jog now, she sprinted for her car, hands clenching her keys and vowing to herself that come tomorrow morning she was going to start parking next to the damn office. She'd been parking as far away from the building as she could, that stupid remark he'd about her putting on weight all those months ago causing her to self-consciously start exercising….  
  
But at least she hadn't joined a gym or something, or gone on a diet.  
  
God, how pathetic would that have been?   
  
She was passing one of the huge support beams when she felt arms come around her from behind. She screamed shrilly and flailed her arms wildly. It was only a couple months ago that Bischoff and his stupid Island Boys had staged their little attack in the ring on her and she was afraid that Eric was taking their game of one-upsmanship too far. Especially after her little stunt with Rikishi. She tried to scream again, but a huge hand clamped down over her mouth and she felt tears sting her eyes.  
  
"Steph, relax. It's me. Steph, just chill out!" Her assailant said but the words didn't even register in the slightest. She wrenched out her arm from the hold. She didn't even note that the hand holding her wasn't tight at all, so hyped up with adrenaline that she was.  
  
She elbowed the guy and felt a thrill of satisfaction upon hearing the man's startled, pained gasp as his arms fell down from her sides. She swung around and kicked out, awkwardly…but full of righteous purpose.  
  
She pulled the hair away from her face, leg poised to kick again…and looked down at the man collapsed on the pavement. "Hunter?" She asked disbelievingly.  
  
"I'm so, so sorry…" She sputtered.  
  
Then stopped. Wait. What the hell was she apologizing for? It wasn't her fault that Hunter had gotten slammed. She wasn't the one sneaking around in parking garages this late at night. She looked down at him coldly, the Ice Princess façade she'd perfected over the past eight hellish months coming to her rescue. Hunter watched the mask fall into place with an inexplicable sadness coursing through his chest. He leaned on his elbows and pushed against the ground, brushing himself off.  
  
"It's okay. There's nothing to apologize for. It was dumb to come up behind you like that, but I just wanted to talk to you."  
  
"You want to talk to me? You know my attorney's number." Stephanie said bitingly. She moved to walk around him.  
  
He inhaled harshly and grabbed her arm. She showed no reaction, didn't try to pull away, just stared at him with those cold, empty eyes, looking at him like he was something she'd scraped off her Prada shoes. And he knew what that smile meant, it meant she was completely unwilling to hear anything he had to say.  
  
And all of a sudden, he wasn't remorseful any more, he was pissed off. He felt the anger rush through his brain, tinting everything in its path red…but how she could still elicit this kind of response in him was beyond him.  
  
"I don't want to talk to your stick-up-the-ass attorneys, Stephanie. I want to talk to you. You still remember how to hold up an end of a conversation, don't you?"  
  
There was something.  
  
A flare, a spark…something in those brilliant blue eyes, if only for a brief moment. But it was there nonetheless. His grip on his arm lightened ever so slightly, so pleased was he that he could at least still make her feel something, anything.  
  
"So talk. Actually, I'll be just as magnamanous as your boss. You've got three minutes." She said looking up into his face for the first time tonight and instantly regretting it. Without his beard….it was just such a completely different look, Stephanie thought.  
  
"No, no, not here. Let's go somewhere."  
  
"It'd be hard to go somewhere in two and a half minutes."  
  
"Oh, grow up…I'm not asking for your first child or your immortal soul, Steph. All I'm asking for is a light dinner and for you to hear my proposition, that's all."  
  
But that's just the point, you bastard! Stephanie's heart screamed. There was a time when you could have had my child, my soul, I would have given them to you!   
  
I would have given you anything.  
  
But that was a time long since passed. None of her anguish showed in any nuance of her expression.   
  
And she was hungry.  
  
Famished, really….  
  
"Fine. Dinner. You're buying. Where do you want me to meet you?" She asked in clipped, level tones.  
  
"Actually, you're driving us…I didn't drive over here tonight, I took a cab. I am on a different tour than you, after all…"  
  
Stephanie looked at Hunter thoughtfully. "Yes…yes, you are. Fine, I'll drive then." They walked the few feet over to her car, she unlocked the doors and they sat. She pulled smoothly out of the garage. "Where are we eating?"  
  
"Pick a spot, anywhere you want." He said casually, but regretting the words the instant they tumbled from his mouth. He felt, rather than saw the hint of a grin on Steph's face. He knew what that smile meant.  
  
"If you say so…" She murmured, and immediately swerved into the parking lot of a seafood restaurant. She turned off the ignition, looked at Hunter, anticipating a vehement rejection of her restaurant of choice. She was somehow disappointed when he didn't even say a word, just unhooked his seatbelt, came around her side of the car and opened her door.  
  
Always the gentleman, always so fuckin' well-mannered, despite all appearance to the contrary. She closed her eyes briefly, already regretting her hasty decision to have dinner with the man. But the fact that she could not see only enhanced the smell of his cologne, so subtle…she swallowed hard and proceeded wordlessly into the restaurant.  
  
Luckily it was a slow night and no reservations had been needed. They sat, ordered. Stephanie did her best to focus on things around her, rather than actually look at him. She glanced at the clock, the tacky lighthouse picture on the wall, and oh, hey, that spot on the carpet was especially fascinating tonight.   
  
"….And then the monkeys danced around in their little blue tutus and started shooting the rabbits…." Stephanie's eyes snapped back over to Hunter, who she realized had been talking for the past several minutes.  
  
"Heh?" She asked, blinking. "…Rabbits?" She trailed off questioningly.  
  
"Glad to see I finally have your attention." He said dryly, sipping water from his glass.  
  
"I—oh, I hadn't realized you were talking." She said, gripping her water glass now too, desperate for something, anything to keep herself occupied.  
  
Hunter's cheek ticked slightly, but he otherwise showed no reaction to her dismissive statement.  
  
"I never used to be so boring." He said.  
  
No, no, not the *hurt* voice. Anything but that. The one that had always made her feel like she'd kicked a puppy. She set the glass down on the table.  
  
"No….you were a lot of things, boring…boring was never one of them." She agreed softly.  
  
"Now, did that kill you?" He asked. "To say something nice?" He asked.  
  
No, but if he kept looking at her like that, it just might kill her. She allowed herself to look at him, to really look at him for the first time…in months. It had actually been months since she had looked this man in the face this fully. She hadn't been lying earlier, when she'd said she was famished….just not for food. She studied him carefully, trying to search him for whatever had possessed him to ask her to come out to dinner with him. The only word that came to mind when she looked at him was…  
  
"Tired." She said.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Uh…tired. You look tired." She said.  
  
"Oh. Yeah. I guess so."  
  
"What's the matter, not getting much sleep lately?" She hated herself the moment the words slipped out. She could hope he hadn't read the meaning behind her question…those bimbos she'd seen a month ago on Raw, in the shower….  
  
But no…it was a futile thought. He had always noticed things like that, stupid, really, to wish that he wouldn't. His eyes flickered to her face instantaneously.  
  
"And what do you mean by that?" He asked in his most innocent tone, but no, no, nothing was ever innocent about this man.  
  
Stephanie wasn't going to play though. She was smarter than this. She knew better now. So she said nothing, glared instead down at the table and its dizzying array of folded napkins.   
  
"I asked you a question…I would appreciate an answer."  
  
Yeah, well, I'd appreciate you falling off the face of the planet, but you don't see me asking you to, now do you? But aloud, all she said was: "I think that you should just be glad I agreed to actually have dinner with you. I don't think you really have any business asking me anything about anything anymore."   
  
"I see. This was a…this was a mistake. I'm sorry for having wasted your time." He said, and much to her shock…and disappointment? He rose from his seat, legs unfolding elegantly from the chair. He pulled out his wallet and threw down money on the table.  
  
"That should more than cover it….thank you, Stephanie, for your time." He said politely and turned to go.  
  
"Hunter, wait!" She said quickly and chose to ignore the thrill of delight that raced down her spine when he stopped instantly.  
  
"What?" He asked, still not turning.  
  
"Uhhh…dinner's here. Finish your dinner, at least." She said, thanking whatever God was watching over her at the excellent timing of the arrival of their meal. He turned slowly, and something in her face must have told him the invitation was genuine because he pulled his chair back out and seated himself back at their table. Stephanie pulled a shrimp from the platter and munched on it nervously. Hunter looked at the little creatures distastefully and instead chose a slice of bread.  
  
"So, how are you?" She asked inanely. Oh, my God, had she seriously just asked that? How lame was she? She cringed inwardly. She wasn't this incapable of intelligent conversation with anyone else, was she?  
  
But the question elicited a small smile from him. "I'm…I've been better." He admitted.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Did you see Raw's last show, Steph?"  
  
Stephanie nodded distastefully. "Yeah…that…that…." She trailed off, unable to come up with the proper words.  
  
"It was sick. Disgusting. Come on, my getting off on a plastic doll? I've done a lot of things in this company, and all of it, I've pretty much enjoyed or at least could see the humor in. But that Katie Vick trash…"  
  
"…is beneath you." Stephanie finished for him. His eyes raised to hers, surprised.   
  
"Thank you." He said, and she was shocked to feel herself blushing, because he had said it so heartfully.  
  
"No problem. So why did you do it?"  
  
"Bischoff made me."  
  
"No one can make you do anything you don't want to do, Hunter. So what do you mean he 'made' you?"  
  
"He said he wanted to get Raw ratings up….and my contract basically allows him to do whatever he wants with me, I….didn't really read over the contract back at Vengeance, I wasn't actually planning on …long story short of it is that I sort of have to do whatever he wants. I belong to him…unless…."  
  
"Unless…."  
  
"Unless you…help me." He choked out.  
  
"By?"  
  
"Getting me out of my contract."  
  
"And I would do this because?"   
  
"Because….I…."  
  
"You?" Stephanie pressed.  
  
"God, Stephanie, why do you have to be so damn difficult? Can't you just see what I'm offering you here? A chance to stick it to Bischoff, that's what I'm offering. And I'll even sign a contract with you, to make me a Smackdown man. Isn't that what you want?"  
  
"I'm going to stick it to Bischoff regardless of whether you help me. And as for you joining Smackdown, I do believe I made you that offer at Vengeance. You turned me down flat, if I recall."  
  
"I was wrong! I'm admitting it, okay? Look, this is a mutually beneficial proposal on the table here, Stephanie. You and your crack team of lawyers find some way to get me out of this contract, and I will come and be on Smackdown. We both win, Bischoff loses. Isn't that what you want?"  
  
No. No, this wasn't what she wanted, not at all. She didn't want him on Smackdown, it was bad enough that she saw him on Raw, she didn't know if she could deal with seeing him every single day, to have to work with him again. As it was, she watched Raw videos several times a week, telling herself it was just due to the fact that she needed to see her competition, see what she was up against, but it was a lie, she wasn't that delusional. She watched because she was addicted, addicted like some kind of crack junkie to watching Hunter, she'd rewind all of his scenes and play them over and over and over again, until she finally fell asleep from pure exhaustion, listening to his voice. She couldn't count how many times she'd woken up to a television screen full of snow because the tape had run out.  
  
"I'm not interested. You made your bed, Hunter. Lie, wallow in it." She stood, proud that her voice was not shaking. "I need to leave. I have things waiting for me." Papers, endless papers that needed to be read, forwarded, thrown out, all waiting back at her hotel room for her.  
  
"Things? Or something specific?" He asked sharply.  
  
"It's really none of your business either way. You asked me to dinner, I consented. I heard you out, I heard your little proposal and I said no. And so, now I'm leaving." She copied his earlier movements, pulling out her purse and throwing a wad of bills on the table. God, the waitstaff was going to just love them tonight.  
  
"I think you at the least could give me an explanation."  
  
An explanation. Yes, yes, she could do that at least. "I don't need you on Smackdown, Hunter." She told him bluntly. "You're a brilliant wrestler, that goes without saying. But it doesn't change the fact that right now, Smackdown is doing pretty well for itself. And it's like I said before, you made the decision to go to Raw and now you need to live with it."   
  
You betrayed me for the final time, Hunter, when you didn't sign with me that night. I won't make the mistake of getting my hopes up over you all over again.  
  
"I….have a confession I need to make. But I think you need to sit down."  
  
She contemplated, decided it wouldn't really cost her anything to humor him, so she did. She could totally do this.  
  
"I was going to sign with you that night. I was in the ring, all set to pedigree that ass Bischoff into the next life."  
  
She ignored the fact that her heart skipped a couple beats. A response was called for here, she knew it. But all that squeaked out was: "Oh?"  
  
"Yeah. But then I…I had a thought, Steph. I thought that….maybe it would be more…interesting if I signed with Bischoff instead."  
  
"More…interesting?"  
  
"In that if I was actually on Raw….I could do things there that I would be unable to do if I were on Smackdown. I would be much better positioned to…act." He finished awkwardly.  
  
Her heart did an odd little jump now. "Act?" She echoed, he couldn't be saying what she thought he was saying. He just couldn't….could he?  
  
"I waited for you."   
  
"Wai—waited for me? To do what?" He really had to stop talking now, her heart kept stopping and restarting at strange intervals.  
  
"I don't know…something. Anything really. To call me. Show up at my hotel room. I…had so many scenarios, Stephanie. You'd call me on the phone, every inch the McMahon heiress, making me some great offer. Or you'd just show up at my hotel room one night, your eyes Machiavellian, all the way through. I can't tell you how many times I opened up my hotel room door expecting to find you there. But you never came." He added, almost an afterthought.  
  
Oh. Oh. Oh, God. He wasn't saying this. He…was actually saying these words to her.  
  
"How was I supposed to know that you wanted to move against Bischoff?" She asked finally.  
  
"I….just expected you to, I guess. I thought that you'd guess what I was doing. Or even if you didn't guess, I really thought you'd pull out all the stops to get me to see the error of my ways."  
  
She sat silently.  
  
"But you didn't. Nothing, all these months, and I haven't heard one word from you. I told myself, I'd make you come to me, I wouldn't be the one to approach you, but somehow, here I am."  
  
"Yes, here…here you are. Doing…doing what, exactly?"  
  
"I'm making you an offer. While I've been playing the good little soldier for Bischoff, playing along with his little games, I've been studying him. Like I've always done before, you know how I study people to get inside their heads. And I've gotten inside his head, Steph. I can give you what you want, you know I can." He grasped her smaller palm in his, dwarfing her hand, his fingers rubbing circles her palms.  
  
"And what do you think I want?" Could her voice be any more breathless?  
  
"You want Raw. You want Smackdown. You want it all, Stephanie."  
  
She felt herself nodding.   
  
"You have Smackdown. You can have Raw. You can have it all, Stephanie, just say the word."  
  
"Why are you doing this? I'm….I've finally gotten used to things the way they are. I've gotten used to not…being with you. Why are you starting all of this over again?" Do you want to break me, Hunter? Is that what you want? Because you will, if you start this all over again, you will and all the king's horses and all the king's men will never put me back together again…  
  
"You know, there's a voice inside me that's screaming the exact same thing. It's saying, you idiot, you finally got her out of your life, why are you reopening all of these doors again? And you know what? I actually know the answer." He paused and Stephanie thought she might scream if he didn't continue.  
  
He leaned in closer, so close that his breath moved her hair. She closed her eyes against the sensation. He. Smelled. So. Good. "It's because…"  
  
Oh, her heart felt like it was about to jump out of her chest now…  
  
"…I'm bored."  
  
Her heart crawled back inside its place in her chest, laid down painfully, defeated yet again. "Bored." She repeated distantly.  
  
"Without you, I'm bored. Say what you want about us, Stephanie, but you'd have to admit, even during all the crap of the last year, we were never bored."  
  
She could smash this shrimp platter in his face, wanted to stab him in the hand with her fork, wanted to throw the ice water in his face…but that would be way too childish. And yet it was so tempting…but these past few months had forced her to grow up a lot, and that mature personality won out somehow.  
  
"I find that I'm happy enough with the direction my life has been taking me in lately. So I thank you for your…offer. But I'm afraid I'll have to turn it down. I wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors." She made a move to get up again, but he still had her palm.  
  
"There's another reason too, you know."  
  
She swallowed. She wasn't interested in this.  
  
Not.  
  
The.  
  
Least.  
  
Bit.  
  
Interested.  
  
"I think…I think there's still something here."   
  
Of course there was. She was beginning to realize that there would always be something here, no matter how desperately she wished it wasn't true.  
  
But could she really put her heart back on the line for *something*?  
  
"You want to leave. I—I see. I'll call a cab." He leaned back in his chair, exhaled sharply. He had put so much of himself on the line tonight, and he was getting nothing in response. It was up to her now. He had made his proposal, she was the one who had to decide. He knew that eventually her McMahon genes would come to the fore, she'd take him up on his proposal. The seeds had been planted, all he had to do was wait, be patient and just wait. He hung up the cellular phone. "They have a cab half a block away. Lucky me, I guess. I have a flight to catch tonight." He forced himself to release her hand and he rose from the table, both of them ignoring the fact they had left a virtually untouched dinner behind.  
  
"So, you're flying to Albany, then, right? That's where Raw will be next." She asked, walking ahead of him, pulling out the keys to her car, steeling herself to go back to that damn hotel room.  
  
  
But he had never been a patient man, and he was damned if he was going to start now, he thought wildly.  
  
He didn't know why he was going to say this, he really didn't. Maybe he was stupid, or maybe he'd just gotten addicted to being happy, or maybe he was just addicted to her.  
  
Maybe he was a masochist.  
  
"No. I think I deserve a vacation after all of that Katie Vick garbage."  
  
"Yeah, take some time off. Get some sleep, Hunter."  
  
"I'm going to Las Vegas." There, it was out there….  
  
Stephanie stilled.   
  
Turned.  
  
Saw his face, completely softened, open, and dear God, he was so beautiful….  
  
She blinked and he still stood there, waiting, watching, his eyes trailing down the length of her and God how she had missed those eyes looking at her like she was the most desirable woman to have ever walked the planet.  
  
Oh. He was waiting for a response. "Las Vegas?" Good, words. Words were good. Now, think of another word, you can do it, she told herself gently. "Why…why there?"  
  
"Las Vegas has been good to me. Given me a lot of things I never really deserved. Maybe…maybe I want to roll the dice just one more time and see if I can get it all back."  
  
He was serious.  
  
And he started walking away from her again, was walking past her now, leaving her, leaving her standing there and….she found herself following him, heels clacking on the pavement, hearing an odd gasping sound…was that her breathing? She felt light-headed.   
  
The cab was outside waiting and he climbed in, she stopped outside the cab.   
  
He was holding the door open.  
  
For her.  
  
She looked back at her car, it was waiting to take her back to her empty hotel room. To the papers in her hotel room that really needed to get filed tonight. The air was just starting to get cold outside, winter would be here before anyone knew it, she knew, and her breath started coming out in little puffs.  
  
Hunter held out his hand, eyes shining up at her, promises and heat and everything, everything was in that stare. She looked down at the hand, tried to ignore the loud buzzing that was swiftly surrounding her and it suddenly seemed that there was nothing else in the world but her and that hand reaching out to her…  
  
"The devil that you know, Steph?" He asked softly, his hand still extended.  
  
She glanced back at her car. The room, the papers, the silence, they were all waiting for her.  
  
Her eyes closed for a minute. Opened again. He saw the smile on her face, felt something move in his chest, he knew what *that* smile meant.  
  
Decision made.  
  
Fin.


End file.
